Pretty Little Sinner
by egyptiancatgoddess
Summary: aka the birthday fic that Celestial Reign asked me to write and post here. Characters based off of CR's "Pretty Little" series. If you haven't read her series, you are going to be severely confused. Bronzeshipping, lemon.


Hey all!

So, don't hate me for not updating "Secrets"... I'm getting to it, I swear! Anyway, Celestial Reign asked me to write her a birthday fic (her birthday was like three freaking weeks ago), so I just finished it and she asked me to post it here.

**Note: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ _PRETTY LITTLE LIAR, _DO NOT READ THIS! You will be severely confused.**

**Warnings:** Lemon, bronzeshipping.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, _Pretty Little Liar, _or_ Pretty Little Thing. _The latter two are owned by CR.

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It sickened me now to think that, if he had asked it of me, I would have gladly given him my virginity. I hated how young and naïve I was then- before I realized Mariku's true nature. Before I realized that he couldn't love.

I had loved him. Loved him to a point I didn't even realize until after I had left the tombs, until after I knew what he was. I hated it, how much I had craved him even then, even though I wanted nothing to do with him, had wanted to keep that side of myself buried deep down where no one could ever find it.

I still remembered the dreams I'd have when I was wrapped in his arms at night- vivid, erotic dreams, leaving me restless and awake long before daybreak, long after he'd disappeared. I knew I was missing something- something important- but, as a child of twelve, I had no idea how to articulate it. Even if I _had_ known, he was never there when I wanted to ask him.

Even after I knew what he was, those dreams from my early adolescence plagued me. I- I _wanted_ him to touch me the way he had in my dreams. Even while I was on my quest to destroy the Pharaoh, I knew it wasn't what I wanted- I had begun to come to terms with what I was, I knew the scars on my back were meaningless. I only wanted someone to know me for who I _really_ was: not Malik Ishtar, youngest and last of the Tomb Guardians, hell-bent on murdering the Pharaoh and his friends, but as a teenage girl. I wanted someone to love me as that girl, not as the boy I had been forced to become.

The only person who knew that side of me was Mariku.

I had tried taking matters into my own hands, so to speak, but… Even then, I still didn't get the same sense of fulfillment I found in those dreams. I remember staring at the Sennen Rod one night, wondering, hating myself for wanting to use it for _that_ purpose. But then again…

I hated what I was doing- the duty I was fulfilling for no other reason than to get on with my life, if I even had one beyond the role that was forced upon me the day my father gave me those scars. Did I even have a purpose beyond this? I had hoped that I would find it once all this was over, but… Would anyone accept me as Malik Ishtar, a sixteen-year-old _girl?_

I hated him for being the only person who knew who I truly was. I hated myself for allowing him to see that side of me, for still craving his affection (or at the very least, the physical manifestation) even though I _knew_ he was incapable of giving it to me.

I sighed, pulled the Rod into bed with me, and hoped that by using it, that I could forget these longings. I didn't want him; I certainly didn't love him now that I had seen what he had done to my father. But still… I circled my nipple with my fingers, arching just a little bit. _Wouldn't it feel better if someone else were doing this to me? Someone who accepted what I was? Someone who loved me?_

I rubbed the slightly warm metal against my most sensitive area, gasping a little at the foreign contact. God, it felt… _good_. I pulled down my pants, my undergarments quickly following, as I rubbed the Rod more firmly against that one spot that would have me seeing stars. I arched, moaned, spread my legs… but I still needed more. I looked at the Rod one last time. _Why not?_ I gripped it with both hands, angled it, and slid it inside of me.

_Oh God…_ I bit my lip to keep from screaming as white-hot euphoria flooded my senses. Slowly I thrust it in and out, letting my mind run wild, imagining that _he_ was the one doing this to me, giving me this pleasure, thrusting in and out so slowly… I stared at the ceiling, dazed, imagining him above me, stroking my innermost depths, stoking the fire that burned there.

_Oh… Oh God, I was going to… I was going to…_ I could feel my muscles clench around the now-slick metal, and I threw my head back against the pillows as I cried out, feeling my orgasm rock through me. Once I had finally caught my breath, I pulled the now-dirty Rod out of me and stared at it.

_It still wasn't the same. It was still me. The only thing that could ever love me was a piece of metal that I manipulated myself._ I sobbed at that, throwing the Rod onto the floor and burying my head in my pillow. I continued to wail, realizing that the only person I wanted to love me, the only person who ever _could_ love me as I was, had been born to hate.

That night, I dreamt that he held me, pet me, whispered soft endearing words in my ear. It was the first night in a long time where I didn't wake up halfway through the night, still yearning for something that I couldn't have.

I tried to convince myself that his- love, for lack of a better word- was something that I really, truly did not want. It worked, for a time- especially after he raped me.

The last time before I killed him, it had been… different. He hadn't just taken me like he always did. He had touched me, stroked me, made me ache, made me wet, made me want more. I hated him for it- for making my entire body crave him, even after what he had done to me.

_I didn't want this._ That's what I kept telling myself as he laid me on the bed, my robe clinging to my still-damp body. _I didn't want this._

I watched him warily, keeping the lilac silk pulled as close to my body as I could manage. Why hadn't he just taken me as he normally did? He hated me still; I knew it, despite what he had said. Was this what he wanted- for me to quake in fear, wondering when he would finally pounce?

He stroked my cheek before turning his back to me. I sat there, puzzled, as he removed his cloak and jewelry, littering my bedroom floor with purple and gold. _What was he…?_

My mouth went dry as he removed his shirt- no, no, no no no this wasn't happening again! Even so, my eyes traced the scars on his back- the same scars that bound us, made us what we were, the scars that created him. I didn't want this, and I hated my traitorous body for heating up, for making me stare.

When he faced me again, all I could do was keep my hands clenched tightly around my robe. He was… beautiful. No, he was a monster. No matter what he did to me, how good he could make me feel, I couldn't lose sight of that. He made my life a living hell. Then why did I ache to…_touch him…? _

I flushed when he caught my eye and smirked, his hands straying down to his pants, unbuckling them so slowly that I wanted to scream. I forced my eyes to study the embroidery on my robe when he reached for his zipper, but even the rip of metal teeth made my heart pound. Oh God, why, what did I do to deserve this? Why couldn't it have been anyone else- just not _him_?

The bed dipped beside me, and I still refused to look up. _I didn't want this. I didn't._ His cold hand tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to slowly peruse his body. I flushed, trying to avert my gaze, but this just seemed to amuse him.

"Why so shy, Hikari? It's nothing you haven't seen before."

_Yes, but… Not like this… Not with this fire burning inside me. Not with my body begging for you to touch it, even while my better sense screams to run, to leave and never come back._

My eyes finally met his; I could see them reflected back to me. God, I hated myself. I hated myself for the desire that I could see shining there, despite my fear. I hated him. I hated him for the feigned tenderness in his eyes, for the gentle way he stroked my slightly swelling stomach, the way he talked of "the three of us."

_I didn't want this. I didn't._

I shuddered as he kissed me again, softly, asking me for entry. I was slow to respond, not from hate so much as from the fear of what would happen once I finally gave in. I didn't want this. So why did my body betray me, try to convince me that I still loved him?

Surprisingly, he didn't force the issue, instead choosing to lay kisses down my jaw, my neck, to the neck of my robe. I held back a moan as he gently bit my collarbone, sucking on the flesh until it bruised, marking me. As if he needed to- I was already his, that… that _thing_ growing inside of me was proof enough.

His hands were on the sash of my robe, tugging slightly. I stiffened- _God, no, no, no, I didn't want this, I DIDN'T WANT THIS!_ I pulled away, fear overcoming any thoughts of desire, driving my actions. Even if he had allowed me to climax the last time, that didn't mean he loved me. It meant nothing.

"Hikari…" He cocked his head, looking hurt and confused at my sudden refusal. I scooted away from him as fast as I could, trying to put as much distance between us as possible- until my back slammed against the headboard. He crawled towards me, blocking off any escape (as if I would have had one anyway), and nuzzled my neck, breathing softly in my ear.

"I love you, Hikari. Please… let me show you…"

His lips brushed against mine, holding me transfixed as he untied my sash, pulled my silk armor away from my body. I shivered against the cold, my body automatically seeking the warmth his gave off. He pulled me closer, wrapped his arms around me, and I…I couldn't help it.

I whimpered. Just like I had when I was a small child and needed him to hold me and comfort me. Like I had back before I realized Mariku was no knight in shining armor. Like I had back when… when I loved him.

I didn't want… to fight this anymore. I was already his; he had already come back for me- not once, but twice. What if… no. No, I couldn't, how could I think of that…? But wouldn't it be easier if… If I just…

_Loved him…? _

He had asked me once before to love him, to accept what he was. I wasn't sure I could do either. But either way, love him or hate him, I was still here with him. I was still his, would always be his. Maybe…

Maybe I could love him…

Maybe I could let him love me…

Feeling his arms around me like this, the gentle kisses he placed on my face, my throat, my shoulders… My resolve was breaking.

I still craved him. Despite what I'd said, the hatred I'd felt for him for what he'd done to me, to my father, to Yuugi and all of my friends… I still wanted him. I still wanted him to love me…

I gasped as his fingers circled my nipples, stroking, pinching, teasing them to hardness. He kissed me then, a little more forcefully, and… I let him in. I kissed him back, shyly brushing my tongue against his, feeling my entire body flush as he moaned into my mouth. My arms snaked up his back of their own accord, pulling him in; God, I wanted to feel him, feel his body against mine! I-I was drowning in it, reveling in it, loving it.

He pulled back and stared at me, pleased albeit confused at my sudden change of heart. I smiled, still dazed from that kiss. His eyes softened just a little, and he kissed me again, softly, before moving his mouth back over my collar, over my chest, to… _oh… oh God…_ I arched, moaning as his lips wrapped around my nipple, suckling gently. One of my hands found his hair, my fingers burrowing into it, holding him there. His hand came up, fingers tweaking my other nipple, and my eyes slid closed as sounds I never knew I could make came from my mouth.

I… I _wanted_ this. I wanted it so badly that I would cry- beg, even, promise him anything- if he stopped.

After what seemed like hours of exquisite torture, he pulled back, watching me closely. I could've sworn I saw a smile on his face- a smile, not that stupid smirk he always wore- but it disappeared just as quickly to a look of concentration as his hands skimmed my stomach, gently touching the bump where his- where _our_- baby was growing.

His hands didn't stop there. I gasped as they tickled my thighs, making me hot, making me want more. Those hands ghosted over my already wet sex, before one finger… My mind went blank as it brushed against the one spot that had me seeing stars. I cried out, arching, my hips snapping up against his fingers.

"Oh…oh God… Mariku… Please… Please… don't stop…"

My world faded to a white haze as the warmth continued to spread throughout my body, my muscles clenching rhythmically as my orgasm hit me without warning. I screamed as it flooded me, my God, it had never been that intense, it had never rocked me to my core like that before.

I stared up at him, dazed. _How could he do this to me? _Even after all the hating, all the pain he had put me through… How could he still make me weak-kneed, force me to crave him like this- like he was some kind of drug?

I opened my mouth, wanting to ask him, wanting to tell him… He kissed me again, hot tongue invading, and- I welcomed it. I pulled him closer, needing to feel him, needing him closer, closer—_inside me_. That thought alone was enough to startle me out of my dazed musings; I stared at him, wanting to truly _see_ him for the first time. I brought my hands up to cup his face, ran my thumbs along his cheekbones, took in the golden-brown skin, the lavender eyes, the corn silk hair that was an exact replica of mine.

It was madness. He was a version of me- a completely twisted, _male_ version. But still, he was me. No matter how fucked up it was, we were one- in every way.

I… I loved him.

I kissed him, taking him by surprise, wanting to initiate it, wanting to show him how much I needed him right now. He grunted in surprise, but quickly gave in, his tongue dueling with mine for dominance. He pulled back first, a fine string of saliva still connecting us. I just stared at him- I wanted him, I _needed_ him… so badly… His thumb brushed against that spot again, and I lost myself in the dark waves that surrounded me, dragging me under, making me think of nothing but the pleasure he was giving me.

_Mariku, I… I need you… Please…_ I have no idea if that thought was articulated, but one finger slowly penetrated me, stroking inside me. _More… Oh God, please, more…_ Another finger, stretching me, making me see stars as he brushed up against that one spot inside that brought my second orgasm crashing down around me.

I cried out, arching further into his touch, wanting to pull those long fingers in deeper. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me as I slowly impaled myself on those digits.

I tried to open my eyes, wanting to see his face, needing to know what he felt. Some part of me hated myself for this- for forgetting my terror and hatred for him, for panting and moaning for him like a slut as I fucked myself on his fingers. Even so… I had to see him. I had to know… I needed to know… did he love me? Was that even possible — _could he love?_

"My beautiful hikari…" Those whispered words forced my eyes open. He was… awe-struck, watching me like he could never get enough of what he was seeing, taking a childish wonder and delight in my pleasure. He moaned as I did, one hand running along his length, fisting himself along with my thrusts. I watched, entranced, as a few milky beads dripped from his tip. _Did I- truly- have the power to do this to him? To make him impossibly hard, wanting to cum just from watching me?_ That thought hit me hard, bringing my third climax with it, tearing another scream from my throat. I was soaked, I was spent, and _I needed more_.

One shaking hand untangled itself from the sheets, gripped his wrist, forced him to stop.

"…Hikari…?" He leaned over me, and I could have sworn I saw concern in those endless lilac eyes.

I couldn't believe I was about to say this. The (incredibly small) logical part of my mind was screaming at me, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with me. Was I insane? _Heh, yeah, I guess you could say that. Then again, I've always been insane._

"…Take me…"

He didn't move- he just…stared at me for a long moment before leaning over and brushing his lips against mine. I pulled him in, needing him closer, groaning when I felt his weight shift, that hardness I craved settling between my legs. He crushed his lips to mine, his tongue sneaking in, forcing me to play this game… I moaned as he pushed inside me oh so slowly, stretching, testing the limits before pushing in further, taking his sweet time until he buried himself to the hilt.

Why? He had never been this… gentle before. He'd taken what he'd wanted, whether or not he fulfilled my desires in the process… My train of thought was abruptly cut off as he pulled out and thrust back in, making me moan as I saw stars. _God yes…_ He kept up the slow pace, and I cried out as I felt every thick inch inside me, stretching me, pleasuring me. I wrapped my legs around his hips, trying to pull him impossibly deeper, moaning like a bitch in heat as he began to speed up.

He groaned in my ear, his face pressed into my neck, panting as he continued to drive us both closer to oblivion. My fingers scrabbled for purchase against his sweat-slicked back; my pants and moans mimicked his as he rocked me into the mattress. God, I was so close, it was too soon, I wanted more of this feeling, I wanted it to _last_, dammit! Mariku's thrusting became faster and more erratic, his rod impaling me, stroking my walls, making me quiver and gasp and cling to him for support, for fear that I would lose myself completely. And I wanted to. Oh God how I wanted to lose myself in him…

His pelvis rubbed against my clit one last time, and that was all it took. I felt my body tense, that coil wound far too tight, and I held fast to him, shuddering as my orgasm ripped through me, tearing his name from my throat. _Oh... oh God…_ I shivered as my muscles clenched around him, pulling him deeper, hugging every centimeter of his length; was it always supposed to be like this? Was this what people spoke of when they talked about "making love"?

He cried out against my shoulder, his body tensing as he throbbed, his seed shooting into me, coating my walls. Despite how amazing it felt, how much I had begged and pleaded for this eventual climax, part of me felt sick at the thought of that gooey mess clinging to my insides. I ignored that part, my mind still wandering the astral planes, refusing to come back to earth.

Mariku lifted his head, looking as dazed as I felt. He kissed me softly, pulling me close to his chest as he eased himself out of me. I allowed myself to snuggle into his chest, inhaling his warm, sweaty, musky scent and the hair that smelled of lavender. I could hear his breathing slow as he wrapped his arms around me and sleep tugged at the corners of my mind. My eyes slid closed and I sighed, one of my legs entangling with his as he pulled a blanket over us.

"I love you, Malik." The sounds settled against my hair, shifting slowly to my ear. I curled in closer, beginning to think that maybe- in some twisted way, but this _was_ Mariku- he did love me. I couldn't bring myself to repeat those words. I wasn't ready for that- yet. I didn't know if I ever would be. But I could allow myself to begin to think it. Instead, I nestled against his chest, burying my head just under his chin.

"I know."

Maybe this was love. Or if not, it was the closest I had ever been to such a feeling. Maybe… Maybe I could live with this. I held onto that last thought as sleep claimed me, knowing that it would probably be all I had to sustain me against my better judgment when I woke.

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Now, if you liked it (or if you are pissed that I haven't updated "Secrets"- leave me a review! Reviews make me a happy kitty!

~Cat


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